


Hot Cauldrons and Sharp Swords

by AncientSwordandSorcery



Category: Conan - Robert E. Howard, Conan the Barbarian & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:54:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21414241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AncientSwordandSorcery/pseuds/AncientSwordandSorcery
Summary: Conan arrives in a small village and tells a story of high adventure. In the story, Conan embarks on a journey with Subotai's nephew, Brytalon. The two journey through the lands of Hyboria.  Warning: This adventure is action packed, not for the faint of heart.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Hot Cauldrons and Sharp Swords

Mountains created scenery in the Hyborian landscape. Hither came Conan. With bronzed arms, long black hair, a fresh, clean face and fire in his eyes.  
Conan had marched for days with the tenacity of his race in search of a mercenaries mission to earn gold and if he could not find this, he would have to pillage a village or steal some ducats in order to make his adventure as epic as it is in the songs of the Aquilonian minstrels. In a valley behind the mountains, Conan found a Nemedian pub with a wolf’s crest. He entered, cautiously, sword in hand but all he found was four drunkards and a barkeep. These were the days of high adventure, but after hiking in the wilderness, Conan needed some ale and respite.  
“Aye, barbarian! Sheath your sword, and eat a chicken leg and sip a fine ale. Warriors with stories to tell can drink for free as long as they come in peace and can tell a story with action about the singing swords, svelte maidens with lusty bodies, and the glory that we barkeeps and farmers will never feel in our short lives of toil.”  
Conan chuckled deeply and shook the barkeeps outstretched hand. Conan responded humbly, “I can”. The drunken farmers eyes grew engaged and their faith returned. Conan gnawed into the chicken bone with enthusiasm. He washed it down with a healthy gulp of Nemedian ale.  
“Let me reflect.”, He responded wistfully.  
The barkeep threw a log on the fire and threw peppers into the cauldron, “Aye, barbarian. This night will be spicy indeed!”  
Conan’s Tale begins:

The Conquest of the Zingarian Broadsword

Conan was riding his horse down the beach at a steady pace in the sunny land of Zingara. Ocean to his left and forests to his right, he was riding north. Conan’s black horse scaled a dune and unbeknownst to him or his steed, a beach hermit’s shack lay below the dune. This hermit in rags and tatters moaned and groaned in pain. “My hut!”, he cried. Conan tied his horse to a tree. “Barbarian! You have destroyed my abode. If you do not reconstruct it, I will put a pox on you!”, the hermit croaked. Conan scoffed. “Aye, we will put it back together together and it will be better than before.” The men slogged and plodded for hours. Conan’s clever design would keep out the rain and sun. The barbarian helped the hermit as they constructed the new hut out of mud, and logs, and driftwood. 

“Ah, old hermit, this shack is a castle. Your time on the beach will be merry indeed.”  
“Castle? No but there is a castle a few miles from here. But it is inhabited by the spawn of hell, the Stygian horde. They laid siege on Zingara, killed the king of Zingara, the honorable and forthright King Johannes the Brave. The land has changed since his passing. The Stygian soldiers loot the valley and their leader Flak Joeb the abominable casts black magic spells on the good people of the valley. He sends naught but thunder and lightning down during the harvest leaving the people of the valley with nothing to eat and naught but mud to reap.  
“Flak Joeb, I have heard of him, he wears the red robe and worships the snake god Set. He claims to be the father of Stygia and all these misshapen greedy soldiers.” Conan stops, listens and glances about, his blue eyes smoldering.

An arrow whizzes past Conan’s ear. The next arrow is cut in twain midair by Conan’s Atlantean sword. 

“Who are you? Who shoots arrows at a Barbarian who has seen more battle in his life than all the men of Vanaheim?”, Conan said with a gruff voice.

“I am Brytalon, nephew of Subotai. I am a thief and archer. I want your black stallion”  
“Young dog, you have no right! I am the rightful owner of this steed. And if you do not put down that bow and arrow, I will slash and stab until this blade dulls you are a serrated corpse fit for the feeding of hounds.”

“Scoundrel!”, Brytalon shouted.  
“You Cur!”, Conan retorted.  
“Rogue, dimwitted Northron”  
“I will cleave your skull in twain, Brytalon, you urchin”

But as the two traded barbs, a scarlet Ibis perched on the limb between them.

“The firebird! It is a sign” Brytalon exclaimed. 

The three men hushed and all that could be heard was the crashing of waves onto the beach.  
“The bird is rare and significant. The people of Cimmeria say that a lofty fire ibis is the harbinger of friendship and luck.”  
Brytalon dropped his bow and ran to the barbarian. “The rouge Ibis is the symbol of freedom for my family.” The warriors shook hands and hugged.

The old hermit rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “I’ll build a fire and we will discuss this new alliance.”

The man built a fire. He used a teepee method, preferred by fire makers throughout Zingara. The sticks leaned upon eachother in a cone shape similar to a teepee. Beneath the big sticks, he laid down bark, moss, and kindling. With a grin, the old hermit pulled out his flint rocks from the newly built hut. He mumbled, “these are handy”. He banged the flint rocks together to make sparks. The sparks landed in the firepit and the kindling, bark and moss caught fire! “Success!” The old hermit jumped for joy. The warrior barbarian Conan and his new friend, the thief, archer Brytalon sat down on horizontal logs surrounding the fire. 

“I have a rabbit which we can eat” said Brytalon, humbly. 

“I have flatbread, it will fill our bellies for days. It is in the saddlebag. I’ll be right back. Start roasting that rabbit and we will have a feast.” Conan left with pantherish speed, his muscles flexing as he arose from the log bench which he was sitting upon.

The scene of the feast was sublime and beautiful. The sun was setting in the east and the sky was a reddish-pink color. The flames danced and crackled as Brytalon and the old hermit warmed up by the fire. The evening was cool but not cold. Wind blew a cool mist toward the young warrior and his new friend the hermit man. They waited for Conan for what seemed like minutes and it was indeed only a few minutes. Conan returned. He held the bread above his head. 

“Crom! This is the feast of friendship! We will fill our gullets with this food. We honor King Johannes the Brave and think of him as we enjoy this bounty.” The old hermit croaked, “Aye, who wants some ale?”

Conan smiled, he knew that this Hermit may have the strongest tastiest ale in the entire region of Zingara. Conan did not know if he had been blessed by that red bird, the scarlet ibis, but he knew that a flagon of ale would ease his mind. 

The fire cracked and Conan felt the sand between his toes. Conan also knew he wanted more from this life. He wanted something else. He wanted glory. He wanted to bring honor back to the people of the Zingarian Valley. 

Brytalon put one hand up to the fire and with his other hand gnawed on a huge rabbit drumstick. “Blanket! Where’s my blanket.” Conan and the old hermit glanced at eachother and then bellowed a deep laugh, in unison. 

“Boy, this is Zingara. It is not too cold on the beach. If you were in the hills of Cimmeria, you would need a blanket. But there in the north we do not use these primitive weaved reeds and such. No, a man need simply slay a bear or a furry monster and use the pelt for warmth. Brytalon, you make me laugh with your humble demands of a blanket. Sit close to the fire and tell me a story about archery.” 

“Archery is not easy”, Brytalon quipped.

“I didn’t say it was.”

“I killed a python and a lizard and a wild dog.”

“A wild dog, but dogs are our friends, when trained they can protect a hut, a woman, and a babe.”, Conan responded, eyes smiling.

“A feral dog can also bite your tender throat,.”

“I would not let him, I have a sharp sword and the reflexes of a panther.”, Conan glanced at his blade.

“Conan, you are a strong man with rippling flexing muscles but your faith in me will grow because I am quick with the bow and I can kill slimy snakes and dogs with sharp teeth like metal cutlery.”

In the underbrush, there was a rustling.

“Do you hear that? What is that?” said Conan.

“I don’t know”, Brytalon replied.

At that moment a bear charged from the forest on to the beach, kicking up sand with its claws and hurdling over bushes. 

“Crom’s teeth!”

Brytalon loosed an arrow. It stuck in the giant bear. It roared and continued its attack with rage in its eyes. 

Conan pulled a bag of yellow lotus powder from his belt and hurled it at the beast. It roared again and pawed at its face.

“The powder is working Conan! The powder has stopped the beast in its tracks!”, Brytalon exclaimed.

Conan approached the bear cautiously, sword drawn. With barbarian instincts, the Cimmerian evaluated his adversary. Then with a grunt, he stabbed.

The sword stab stunned the bear and it rolled over on it’s back. Red blood gushed from the wound. The beast howled and roared and the look of rage on its face changed to a countenance of sheer panic. Conan was now the aggressor. 

“The feast is not over! Tonight we dine on bear!”, Conan said gruffly.

With a quick two handed downward stroke, Conan dispatched the beast. A roar and gurgle emitted from the bears mouth and the beach was silent except for the crackling of the campfire and the sound of waves crashing onto the beach.  
After eating and some rest, Brytalon and Conan left the beach in search of the Zingarian broadsword. They waved goodbye to the old hermit and set forth on their mission. The two rode on Conan’s stallion until they reached a dense forest. They dismounted the horse and readied their sword and bow.

It was daybreak as they walked through the forest, both men listened and smelled their surroundings. Their five senses were alive with the smells and sounds of the forest. BlueJays hopped from branch to branch to branch. The forest had eucalyptus trees along with evergreen trees and the forest floor was bedecked with flowers and mushrooms of great variety. 

Conan reached down and grabbed a raspberry from a bush. “These”, said Conan, “these are safe to eat”. Brytalon observed and then picked two dozen berries from the briar. The berries were delicious. Brytalon smelled the berries and sat on a fallen log, covered in moss. “These raspberries will be my lunch until we reach civilization”.

“Aye”, said Conan. “Let me tell you about the horrors of civilization” 

Brytalon perked up and listened.

“Civilization is bound for destruction”, said Conan. “There, the people lose their wits, they lose their freedom. They lose their instincts. They live only to serve their king. And the more power the king has, the more the king oppresses his people.”

“But the stories of King Johannas of Zingara were told with great passion by his people,” said Brytalon. 

“Yes, it is true that King Johannes was a glorious, generous, and merciful king, but he was not strong enough to defend his kingdom. The evil Stygians were able to exploit his weakness and create their own civilization of snake worshipers and desert folk. Now the people of Zingara work the fields and give tribute to the king. Never has a people been so desperate for a free barbarian to liberate the good people of Zingara. That is why we must be strong with bow and sword to free those people and bring order where there is chaos.”

“Can we fight our way into the castle and win back the kingdom?”  
“Yes, Brytalon, we can free them. But we will have to have luck on our side in order to defeat those evil sorcerers and soldiers.”

“Luck, what is luck? I thought luck was something a man could only use at the gaming table. That is when fortuna smiles on a man and his worries are swept away.”, Brytalon pontificated. 

“According the Nemedians, luck is something different. Luck is earned. If a man sows and harvests grain from his own field, is he lucky? The Nemedians seem to think so. A Zingarian must work on a daily basis to bring luck to his family and neighbors. There is a soldier trains with the sword every day. He keeps his sword sharp, he eats healthy meals. He develops muscle. And then when the day of battle comes, that soldier is lucky on the battlefield, slays his enemies and protects his home. Is he lucky? According to the Nemedians, he is in fact lucky because he cultivated his luck.”

“Then it is no accident that you are lucky on the battlefield, Conan. You have developed your muscle and learned to swing and stab with a heavy steel sword, you leave enemies in your wake. You are indeed the luckiest warrior I have ever met, “ Brytalon exclaimed.

“There is nothing like experiencing glory on the battlefield. Glory, now there is something that the timid rarely feel. But a barbarian soldier feels glorious and alive after every swing of the sword.”, said Conan gruffly.

“I am small, Conan. But my aim is true with the bow and arrow. Will I feel the glory of a conqueror when we raid the high tower castle and dispatch the evil Flak Joeb?” 

“I have been fighting Stygian warlord sorcerers ever since I came here from Cimmeria. I can attest, it never gets boring and one never knows what evil black magic a Stygian can produce. Be ready to take up a shield if a Stygian sends out lightning bolts from his hands or black pitch from the rafters.”

“I will be ready to fight a malicious Stygian. But before we leave this enchanted forest, I will loose 100 bolts at the target on yon tree. I’m confident that I can be the best archer in Hyboria, “ said Brytalon.

Brytalon worked on his skills with a bow. His aim was accurate. Conan sharpened his sword with a rock, brooding in a zen state of silence. 

Then, from a path no more than 50 feet away from the two warriors, a band of 9 Stygian cavalry riders on armored horses that rode past on the outskirts of the forest. 

Brytalon squeeked with fear, “Conan, it’s two against nine, I don’t think we should engage the enemy just yet.”

“Agreed,” grunted Conan, although he knew in his heart he could best 30 men at once with his Atlantean sword and a decent pentangle shield. 

“Stealthily make your way to that large cave on the cliff’s face. We can avoid those wrathful Stygians if we hide there,” said Conan.

Brytalon rolled and somersaulted his way to the cave. Brytalon dove and slid into the cave which had an opening that was only four feet in diameter. Conan walked tall behind, sheathed his sword, lit a wooden torch, and entered the mysterious cave. 

Brytalon, out of breath, turned to Conan, “Conan, we did it, we avoided the Stygians!”

“Don’t get too excited just yet, Brytalon. We avoided danger, but we don’t know what lurks inside here. We may have entered a den of death”, said Conan.

“That’s silly Conan, there isn’t anything in here but small spiders, venomless snakes, and maybe a slimy bat.”

“We’ll see. What is that ahead? Is that another passageway? Crom, it’s a cave inside a cave. Let’s proceed.”

Brytalon walked through the mouth of the passageway. The cave opened up into a cave with hundreds of stalactites and stalagmites. The fire from Conan’s torch reflected onto the crystals and created a shining, shimmering luminescence. Both man and young man were awestruck by the sublime beauty of it all.

And then, from behind them, what could only be described as a white monster ape with a gorilla like frame and countenance screeched at the compatriots and scratched Brytalon’s arms with his sharp, razorlike white claws. It was a white ape monster, and it could be described as a polar ape, but what was it doing in the southern land of Zingara? Neither man knew, but they realized that this cave was the polar ape’s home and the beast would defend it.

Conan brushed the white ape back with his torch and it singed the beasts blanched hair. 

“Evil beast! Your claws have made my friend bleed. Now feel the sting of this blade!”

But the beast did something unexpected. He used a tool. He grabbed a flat round rock and wielded the rock in an attempt to crush Conan’s skull. Conan blocked the white muscled ape’s arm with his bronzed left forearm and sent a powerful blow with the butt of his sword to the ape’s jaw. Conan had connected, the beast from the glimmering crystal cave was knocked out cold.  
Brytalon sat back against a rock. Conan showed genuine concern for Brytalon.  
“Are you okay, bowman? Sometimes beasts attack spontaneously and can injure even the quickest archer.”  
“I am okay. We survived the monster ape.” Brytalon said, out of breath and shaking with fear.

Traversing the Cavern

Conan and Brytalon pushed forward through the cavern. They marched for hours. Along the way they had to walk along narrow cliff paths, steep terrain, and through some marshy water, though it was not very deep. The pair of friends did stop occasionally to relax, rest, and break bread.  
“What kind of bread is this, Brytalon?” Conan asked.  
“It is a hard bread, from Nemedia. It is fortified with nutrients.”  
“Hard bread. Hard like the skull of that monster ape. Cimmeria has hard bread too. That is the land with the hardest bread. Cimmerian bread could break a window and it sits in the stomach for days. Dry and tasty, good with a bit of cheese or a peanut smear.”, said Conan bluntly.  
“Do you have Aquilonian bread in your pack?”, asked Brytalon.  
“Yes. It is soft as a Zamorian princess and white as the moon. You may have a loaf, good friend.”  
“This is delicious, Conan! Do you have some peanut spread?”  
“No, but I will make some.”  
Conan dropped the peanuts into mortar and ground the peanuts with a mix of oil, and sugar. Conan then spread the peanut mixture onto the Aquilonian bread. It was indeed, a meal.  
“Conan, will we travel to the coast again? I have heard that there is tasty food to eat along the coast.”  
“Yes, Brytalon, we will indeed go to the coast. At the end of this cavern lies Sacred Crossings. It is a trading town with many provisions, delicious food, and entertainment for all. It was destroyed by an earthquake 30 winters ago, but they are rebuilding. We can go there before our trip to Stygia. It is called Sacred Crossings because it is the nexus where east meets west and north meets south. It is marked by a 30 foot upside down sword. We will meet the leader of the people of Sacred Crossings, a man named Joe the Wise.”  
“J-J-J-Joe the wise,” stammered Brytalon. “I have heard his legend from my uncle Subotai. He sells many scrolls. And tells stories of Atlantis.”  
“Yes, he’s the one with the best scrolls.”, said Conan curtly.  
“We shall meet Joe the Wise. Will it be possible to get food in said trader village.”  
“We will meet with Luca the Fisherman. He will provide us with shrimp, salmon, soft shell crab, muscles, and clams.” Conan explained.  
“Can we eat snails and slugs there, in Sacred Crossings?” Licking his lips and gums.  
“No, Brytalon. We shall not eat the slugs. Slugs are sacred to the people of Sacred Crossings. The minstrels and bards sing ballads about these beautiful, and sometimes yellow, creatures.”

The Journey to Sacred Crossings

The men exited the cavern into a giant brilliant valley. It was midday and the sun shone brilliantly. The valley was green with pines and redwoods lining the mountain pass. The men climbed from the tiny path onto a wide road on their way to Sacred crossings. The two men embarked.  
“Oh ho, Conan, look there! It’s a Stygian soldier.”  
“I see and he has a plethora of POWs that he will now make his slaves. And look at how big and hearty they are.”  
“By Crom! One of my friends is in chains. It is Ka Lay Na, he was a brave warrior in the battles which were fought 8 or 10 years ago. We must set him free!”  
“It is dangerous, but if he is as smart and as hearty as you say, he could help us in Sacred Crossings to assemble a rebellion. You stop the Stygian slave driver, I’ll sneak up from behind and end his foolish life.”

Brytalon ran in front of the Stygian and spoke, “Whoa whoa whoa, where are you taking these men?”, squeaked Brytalon.

As he spoke, Conan snuck up from behind and ended the Stygian slave drivers life with a quick and merciful slice. Blood was spilled, the blood of an evil slave driver.

Brytalon acquired the keys to the shackles and ran to the warrior Ka Lay Na. Ka Lay Na was elated.

“Yes!! Thank you barbarian! And thank you Brytalon. I am a weary warrior and I owe you both for sparing me from the torture of the Zingarian horde.”

Conan shed a single tear, “Freedom. Freedom for a brave warrior, that is a noble act.”

“And I thank you barbarian! Shall we descend on the city of Sacred Crossings? I am ever grateful for the gift of freedom.”, said Ka Lay Na with joy in his heart.

“Yes”, said Conan with a gruff voice. “We shall continue on our journey”.

In The City of Sacred Crossings

The city of Sacred Crossings had resisted the Stygan hordes and was led by Joe the Wise. The two friends and their new Warrior friend, Ka Lay Na entered the scroll shop that Joe the Wise ran and engaged the friendly man in conversation. He was a masculine man with a deep voice and a long beard as white as a dove’s feather. 

“Welcome Conan! What scrolls do you seek today”

“Hi Joe the Wise, I am here with Brytalon, nephew of Subotai and the Warrior Ka Lay Na. We want to storm the castle in Zingara and overthrow the Stygian lord Flak Joeb!.”

“Well that is spicy. You’ll need scrolls, some forceful drinks, and the sword of Johannes the Brave. I can provide you with the scrolls and the drinks but you will have to talk to Luca to acquire Johannes’s sword. This is a dangerous mission but if you succeed, there will be treasure and beautiful maidens. Here, drink this. It is made from blood of a red bull and spiced with a Zamorian pepper.”

Conan drank the concoction and felt a surge of energy, his muscles flexed, he was unconquerable. 

“Now for the scrolls,” requested Conan. 

Joe the Wise dug into a box of scrolls and pulled out a map. 

“Conan, this is the map to an underground passageway to the castle. You must first take Samala pass to reach the Zingaran forest. Then find the entrance is in a hollowed out redwood tree. It is marked with the crest of a white ibis which hangs on the tree. There will be snakes on your journey. Repel them with this.”

Joe the Wise handed Conan glass balls filled with the nectar of the white lotus. 

“White lotus. It disgusts snakes”, Joe explained.

The men shook hands and hugged and Joe wished them luck. Next the Warriors went to Luca the Fisherman’s hut by the sea.  
Luca was an Aquilonian duke but he gave up his life inland to live by the sea. He was 6 ft tall with blue black hair, a carefree demeanor and he wore monacle-like glasses because his sight was not good.  
“Aye Conan. Welcome. I hear you want to overthrow the Stygian Lord Flak Joeb and restore freedom to Zingara. You have come to the right place. Sacred Crossings is a safe haven for Warriors like you. Come into my hut. I will prepare you for the fight.”

Conan hugged Luca. And held up the paw of the bear he had killed. 

“This is for you. It is worth 60 ducats. Bear paws are in demand these days.”, Conan said gruffly, with a voice like sandpaper.

“Thank you, barbarian. Grazie barbarian”

Luca led the men into his hut and presented the men with a bag of shrimp with the heads cut off and a bag of rice. 

“This will help you on your journey. Eat the rice with the shrimp and you will have the strength of 5 men. And now for the broadsword.”

Luca presented Conan with a 5 foot broadsword, perfectly crafted in the style of the Atlantians. It was extremely sharp and heavy for an ordinary man but not for Conan.

“Thank you, Luca. It is Johannes the Great’s famous sword!”

Conan had a custom-made sheath that hung from his back. He sheathed the sword and raised his fist in the air.

“Today we become knights! A plague on all Stygian sorcerers and a curse on Flak Joeb, the Snake King of Stygia! He will fall and the people of Hyboria will be free!”

The three men left Sacred Crossings, energized and with a purpose. Ka Lay Na was pumped. 

“Let’s pick up the pace, we can make it to the Zingarian forest by nightfall! Pace, pace, pace. If we run on these guys, they will never expect it. We can blitz them.”

The Attack on the Stygian Lord

The men rode on steeds for hours. As the sun went down, they saw the forest which surrounds Johannes the Brave’s fortified castle, where Flak Joeb lived. Brytalon looked at the map and directed Conan and Ka Lay Na. Then Brytalon yelled.

“Stop brethren! Look above!”

It was a crest of a white ibis, a holy and sacred sight. The men dismounted and tied their horses to a log.

“This is what Joe the Wise was talking about.” said Brytalon.

Ka Lay Na knocked on the tree.

“It’s hollow.”

Conan, still energized from the beverage and the delicious shrimp said, “Stand aside”

Conan hacked. Then he hacked again. When he was done hacking the tree there was a hole in the hollow tree large enough for a giant like Ka Lay Na to pass through. 

“Great job, barbarian! Let’s make our way to the castle.”

The men walked through the corridor until it ended. There was a plank above. Ka Lay Na pushed the plank aside and the men saw the room was a grainery. Ka Lay Na lifted the barbarian and the archer into the grainery. 

“We must fight on from here”, the barbarian said in a gruff voice.

“There is a large hall with guards next door. We must do battle and then you can ascend the stairs and kill the evil Flak Joeb in his quarters.” Brytalon said to Conan.

“Steel yourselves men!” 

Conan kicked down the door.

There was a short man there with a sword.

“Stop, you cur! Get out of our castle!”, said the man of small stature.

The soldier sprang forth. Conan blocked the man’s cut of the sword and then sliced the man in his belly. Blood gushed. The man of small stature backed up, swung his sword and sliced Conan on the thigh. This made Conan mad. Conan kicked the guard and then send a devastating blow to the small man’s thorax. He collapsed, defeated by Conan.

“Watch out!” Brytalon screamed as a 7 foot tall giant of a guard attacked Conan next.

The giant’s sword was slow but enormous and sharp. Conan parried, sparks flew. Conan then used his speed. He wheeled around the giant and made a cut with his sword on the giant’s calves. The giant guard collapsed. Conan came up from behind him, slicing the giant’s throat, clinically. 

Ka Lay Na and Brytalon yelled words of encouragement.

“Great work barbarian! You’ve slain the guards, now ascend the staircase and kill the tyrant! Fight on, Warrior! We shall win the day!”

Conan ascended the staircase. There was a large wooden door at the top of the stairs. Conan kicked it down. Behind the door, to Conan’s surprise were 30 snakes. Pythons, cobras, rattlers, all manner of snakes and behind them was the evil leader Flak Joeb. Flak Joeb laughed.

“Silly barbarian. Don’t you know that snakes are deadly? These snakes obey me and they will poison your veins!”

“Flak Joeb, you scoundrel! I have come for you and you will die today!”

Conan threw down glass balls filled with the liquid of the white lotus. The snakes who contacted the white lotus juice died instantly and the ones who did not slithered away in fear. Conan smiled.

“And now you will meet your end!”

Conan unsheathed his broadsword and sliced once from right to left across Flak Joeb’s chest. Then Conan sliced once from left to right. 

Flak Joeb fell to his knees and mumbled to himself.

“But the snakes….and the guards…the castle…I don’t understand…I’m invincible.”

Conan raised his sword for the death blow.

“…No, evil Stygian Lord, you are not! This is for the people of Hyboria!”

Blood splattered the walls. A cobra emitted his final hiss and then died.

The tyrant was cleaved.

In the small village

Conan ended his story and there was silence.

The bartender broke the silence.

“….That was you? You killed the evil Flak Joeb?”

Conan nodded.

“For that, you shall have another ale. And we thank you for such an epic story. It is because of you, we farmers live free from tyrants. Three cheers for Conan the Barbarian!”

“Hip-hip horay! Hip-hip Horay! Hip-hip Horay! Glory to the barbarian!”

A white ibis landed atop the tavern.


End file.
